Broken
by kokurousagi
Summary: Multichapter Seiftis. [She was as good as dead...but they refused to believe it.] He didn't know how to care, but he would learn. Even with a shattered mind, she would somehow teach him.


My second attempt at a Seiftis multichapter. Title subject to change. Constructive criticism appreciated greatly—as I am still learning how to properly write good fan fiction—and flames will be laughed at and/or ignored. I hope you enjoy. Innumerable thanks to my best guy friend in the known world, DarkBlueHated. Just because.

**Disclaimer (that applies to entire story): **Squaresoft owns all recognizable Final Fantasy 8 names. I'm just borrowing them. I have nine dollars and a romantic streak a mile wide. But that's all.

* * *

**Chapter One-Dreams & False Cheer**

It was a gala affair. Squall Leonhart, also famously known as Ultra-Serious-Master-and-Commander-of-the-Garden-that-Saved-the-World, smiled as he saw Irvine Kinneas turn the camera away from Rinoa and himself, shaking the camcorder until pretty, petite Selphie Tilmitt rescued it from his dangerous grasp. The couple then started arguing—it was really a common occurrence in Balamb Garden now, their arguments—until a tall, fair blonde stepped between the two, shoving Irvine and Selphie in opposite directions as she simultaneously gave the couple a stern talking-to. Even from a distance, Squall smiled slightly to himself, as he could see Quistis Trepe stepping towards Irvine, hands perched on slim hips as she continued her scolding, Irvine with his hands in the deep pockets of his tan duster and scuffing the floor with his toe like a boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar…Squall could practically imagine him staring at Quistis with apologetic blue eyes, _"I'm sorry, Quis, forgive me because I'm cute?"_

…and then Quistis stopped suddenly and looked at Squall, and grinned—

—and the world he saw dissolved like a painting being washed away, and Squall woke up.

"Squall?" Beside him, waif-like Rinoa Heartilly stirred, opening dreamy brown eyes. She sighed softly and propped herself up onto one slender, pale arm, leaning over him. "Hey, honey."

"…hi," he muttered after a while, his gray eyes adjusting to the darkness of his dorm room. He could see Rinoa now, or at least, her silhouette, gazing down upon him. Even though it was almost pitch-black, Squall could imagine how she looked at him, with worried brown eyes and her lower lip caught in her teeth. After a moment he felt her hand, cool and comforting, brush away his wayward brown bangs from his face.

"You okay?" she asked, covering his forehead with a hand. "You're sweating."

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "No, really, Noa…"

"Okay, I'm sorry, I just have a natural reflex to check on you." She shifted and lay down beside him again, not really touching him, but he knew she was there, and he relaxed. "Okay…you wanna tell me about it?"

Squall sighed, pushing his hair away from his eyes as he frowned at the nonexistent ceiling that he couldn't quite see. "...just dreaming…"

Rinoa sighed beside him, her hand finding his in the dark. "About Quistis." There was a strange tone in her voice, not of jealousy, but of an intense, quiet sadness, and Squall heard her turn her dark head to look at his face. "You were dreaming about Quistis again."

Slowly, he nodded. "At the party after Ultimecia...who I thought was her."

There was silence...then Rinoa spoke.

"Do you want to go see her? Quistis?"

"What? No, no...I don't." Squall shook his head, then turned on his side, flinging his arm across Rinoa's stomach. "Don't worry about it..." _It's not like anything's changed in her condition since I saw her this afternoon._ "I just want to go back to sleep."

Rinoa began stroking his arm, slowly rubbing at the bare skin. "Okay, sweetie. We'll go back to sleep."

A pause.

"Noa?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I just am...I can't stop thinking about her..."

Rinoa blinked up at the darkness, her hand still upon Squall's arm. "I know. I can't stop thinking about her, either."

"I know, Squall. It hurts." Rinoa, sweet, loving, caring Rinoa, who knew what he was trying to say even when he wasn't saying it, or thinking it...Squall sighed into her hair. God, it did hurt, hurt so much, and if he had lost Rinoa, too, he wouldn't know what to do. Rinoa continued rubbing his arm. "I'm so scared that Quistis will stay like that...but we've got to keep hoping, remember?"

"There's no reason to hope," he mumbled.

"There's always reason to hope, sweetie." Rinoa moved, stirring herself from her trance. "We'll go see her tomorrow, first thing in the morning. But right now..."

Squall nodded, pulling Rinoa closer to him. He heard a soft chuckle, and she turned to face him, touching his face. Her breath blew upon his cheek, warm, as she began to sing her mother's song, a soothing melody that remained in his mind as he drifted off to sleep...

"I never sang my songs, on the stage, on my own, I never said my words, wishing they would be heard..."

_I saw you smiling at me, was it real, or just my fantasy...?

* * *

_

"Good morning, Quistis!" Selphie Tilmitt barged into the room, arms full of various objects. "Today I have decided upon a cheery orange room for you!"

With the exuberance of a five-year-old, Selphie placed her armful of decorations on Quistis' bed and threw open the sheer, gauzy curtains that hung above Quistis Trepe's bed. Bright morning sunlight poured into the room, golden shafts of light spilling onto the bedsheets and Quistis' bare arms in dancing yellow stripes. She rummaged through her pile, coming up with a plastic vase, bright orange with a yellow flower on it, and replaced the glass vase on Quistis' bedside table. The rumpled white sheets that covered Quistis were whisked off, replaced by a yellow and red quilt. As a finishing touch, Selphie retrieved a yellow rose from her pile and dropped it into the vase, then poured in some water from the pitcher that stood beside it.

"There we go," Selphie announced, taking in a deep breath and pushing her hair out of her face. "Just a change of pace, your white everything was starting to freak me out." She perched on Quistis' bed, moving the used white sheets to the foot of the bed. "Now everything's bright and happy, so when you wake up, the first thing you'll think is—how cheerful!"

Quistis gave no answer. Selphie's cheer faded along with her smile, leaving only a soft sadness. The petite, auburn-haired girl blinked away the tears threatening to fall and reached out, grasped one of Quistis' pale, cool hands and clasped it in both of hers. Selphie sighed.

"I wonder what you're thinking right now, Quistis..."

"Thought I'd find you here," came a voice behind Selphie. The green-eyed girl didn't even bother turning her head.

"Hi, Irvine. I was just checking up on Quistis here, before I went to breakfast..."

"And changed her room, I see." Irvine ran a finger along the curves of the yellow rose at Quistis' bedside. "Cute."

Selphie smiled, a valiant effort that Irvine saw through. "I didn't want her freaking out when she woke up. Y'know, all that white...so antiseptic and everything. The least we can do for her is make her as comfortable and as at-home as we can."

"Oh, darlin'..." Irvine sat behind Selphie, engulfing her in a warm hug. "I miss her, too."

"Yeah..." Selphie patted Quistis' hand and put it down, nuzzling deeper into Irvine's chest. "Irvine, it's been a year."

Irvine let out a breath. "Yeah, I know, Selph, I know."

* * *

_..."Everyone, let's go back together!"..._

_..."Come on, everyone, back to the orphanage...!"..._

_...She did not come back._

_They had returned to their present, back at the orphanage on the Centra Continent, Rinoa and Squall later than most. It had been a close call for Squall—the Time Compression, coupled with the exhausting fight against Sorceress Ultimecia, had nearly obliterated him mentally, and his mind had almost gone to shit. He almost didn't make it back. Rinoa had to delve into his memories and retrieve his not-quite-crippled mind, and return him to their present._

_Rinoa had saved Squall, like Squall had saved Rinoa._

_But no one had saved Quistis Trepe. No one thought she needed saving._

_The Quistis that had returned was a shell, empty and blank, come to life because they believed too fervently that everyone had returned. She was a living doll, laughing tearfully as she tended to Squall and Rinoa, both exhausted from the battle against Ultimecia. She held Squall to her like a sister held a brother, brushed Rinoa's hair out of her face to tell the young sorceress that "It's fine, we made it, we're all okay..."_

_She moved like the real Quistis moved, and acted like the real Quistis acted. But something had changed._

_It was at the party when they noticed it. The world had shifted—something was wrong. The party they attended, the wondrous ball, celebrating their triumph over Ultimecia...it had been a dream, a wish in their heads._

_It turned out that they had **not** returned to their present in a conscious state. They returned unconsciously to the Lunatic Pandora, comatose teenagers that appeared out of the blue, nearly scaring Ellone half to death until Laguna had them all taken to the finest hospital in Esthar. They awoke from their dreamworld, their happy times, hooked up to machines that monitored their brains and hearts and blood. Laguna had told them they had only been asleep for a few days._

_Quistis never woke._

_They had watched her vigilantly, day after day, transferring her to the Balamb Garden Infirmary when they could no longer stay at Esthar; they were, after all, still SeeDs, and they had their duties. They kept close watch on her, day after day, week after week, and it had been so long, already a year, and she still lay there, eyes closed like she was sleeping...but no one knew when she would wake up. Meanwhile the machines continued to guard her, like angels of metal and glass and wire, beeping steadily; it was a constant in their thoughts, the beeping...her heart continued to beat and her blood continued to flow, but she did not move, did not react, not even as they continued stabbing needles into her arms to keep her from wasting away in a blank, cold hospital bed...

* * *

_

It was like she was as good as dead. And she might be.

They refused to believe it.


End file.
